The man in the mist
by vaipan
Summary: The story takes place after Campbell's death. Tommy flipped the coin again and Grace is gone. But his family, Lizzie, and even May are waiting for him. They rely on him. Tommy chooses a new start and has a new business involving Churchill, of course, who wants something from him, and a mysterious affair in Scotland. Will you follow Tommy in the highlands and Birmingham?


[English is not my mother-tongue. If someone wants to be my beta it'll be with great pleasure ! Just send me a message.]

In the streets of Birmingham was walking a man, his head covered by this kind of cap everyone used to know perfectly well now, the shiny blade of the razor lighten up by the timid sun. His eyes could be barely seen because of the cap, but the bewitching blue steady gaze was unavoidable. Thomas Shelby, said Tommy, was walking briskly, apparently indifferent to those around him, glancing at him with fear or disapproval, for those who dared. He knew perfectly well each street, each corner, each machine, each house. It was his home, his district, his playground, and he was its king. _The king of dirt, shit and misery_, thought he with a jaded amusement.

He felt empty, inside. The fuckin' copper was dead, he should have felt relieved. Even more, he was alive-a real treat, indeed. A man forced to help the Crown, once again, but a living one. Polly killed the cop. She had too, she was the one who had to do it, a sacred mission, although Tommy would not have minded doing it himself. The man had lost everything: Churchill's trust, his influence over his own coppers-Tommy knew how much Moss hated him. Not to speak about Grace.

Grace. She never loved the copper, not a chance, he knew that deeply as well. Somehow, he was convinced that she wasn't really happy without him, Tommy Shelby. They formed a great pair, but he doubted she could find someone who would bring her the sparkle she had with him-sparkle of danger, sparkle of life. Maybe Thomas Shelby hated himself, maybe he thought at himself as despicable, but knew a bit about human nature, and Grace was one of these women that needed the sparkle. Otherwise she would be dying, slowly. But it wasn't his business anymore-the coin had spoken. Grace was out of the picture. He could never really trust her, even though he believed her love was sincere. He had experienced too much pain to miss her truly. She was part of a past Tommy wanted to bury somewhere. A past where he wasn't really in control over work and home life. A past where he had let a spy in his own pub, a spy who compromised badly his plans, no matter how much she was suffering from love now. That would never happen again, because Tommy had become a much more sensible man. A wiser man, at last. As wise as it could be. _Back into business, for good. _

Without even thinking about it, his feet brought him before the Garrison. He had business to settle with a man from Scotland the day after and wanted to be ready. Leave the pub and the rest without having to worry too much about a possible attack. He needed to distribute tasks to the members of his family, and make sure that everyone would stick to these very tasks he would have ascribed to them. He pushed the doors of the pub, saw Arthur and John drinking in a corner_-fuckers_, he thought with amusement.

\- Arthur, John, family meeting, he said with a stolid indifferent voice.

He didn't bother to wait for the answer and went directly to the main room of their house. He knew they would stand up immediately, following his orders without even thinking. That was the dynamics of this family, this was how it worked. There he found Polly, busy with accounts-he would have to tell her that she didn't have to do it herself, for fuck sake. Maybe Tommy's choices had brought a great distress to all of them, but they were rich now. In the end, wasn't it what they always wanted? Maybe their dreams were not bigger than that? He was no different, and would eagerly be the first one to admit it.

\- Family meeting, he announced calmly, briefly looking at her, startled by his entrance.

He felt a twinge of sorrow seeing her trying to hide her jolt. She was surprisingly fragile since she killed the copper. He would have to talk to her, make sure everything was ok. Polly startled, what a rather unusual scene. He walked further and opened Michael's door.

\- Michael, family meeting, he repeated while looking at the whisky bottle negligently lying on the desk, half empty already.

_Only four o clock_, _Michael_, he thought.

\- John passed by, said Michael a bit too quickly, following his gaze to the bottle.

Tommy raised an eyebrow but remained silent. As long as it wasn't a danger for himself or the family, he didn't have to be sniffing around. If Michael could control this, no one had a say, not even Polly. That was how things worked with the Peaky Blinders. He then walked to the end of the corridor, where he opened Lizzie's door, but she wasn't there. Repressing a sigh, he went back to the main room-he had no idea where to find Aida at this time of the day. He smelled a familiar fragrance and eventually saw Lizzie, who had gathered his best men and prepared the exact good amount of papers he would have to sign after the meeting. _Lizzie, you know exactly how to anticipate all my needs,_ he thought with mixed feeling, half-melancholic, half-relieved. He looked at his family, gathered in front of him, waiting patiently for his orders. _Would they live a better life without me? Would it be worse?_ He thought quickly.

\- It will be swift, he warned them. I am to go to London tomorrow, and I expect no mess in any ways whatsoever here, he said. So, I want you to be busy with the tasks I am going to distribute to each of you, he sharply finished.

\- Are we allowed to ask what you'll be doing in London tomorrow or shall we shut the fuck up as usual? Asked Arthur with a grin.

\- He will meet the holy fucking Queen, said John sarcastically, and Arthur hit his shoulder loudly, bursting into laughter.

_Not the Queen, but Churchill should be enough_, thought Tommy with despair and anger.

\- For now, I cannot reveal anything, replied Tommy with a strict voice. But do what I say, and I predict we should have good opportunities before soon, he said vaguely.

\- Clean opportunities, I shall hope, nagged wryly Aida, appearing suddenly from the corridor.

Laughter's cracked in the room, while Tommy's face remained impenetrable. She was stunning as always-deep smoky eyes, red lips, intense brown hair, and this sparkle of brightness in her eyes. She could have been far more involved in family's business given her incredible wit and resources. But as always, she would remain distant-the farthest from Tommy, actually. Maybe she never really forgave him for Freddy. Or maybe she was really sceptical towards Tommy's willingness to become clean_. And she was damn right_, he thought.

\- I am gonna meet someone important in the whisky business. Incredibly good whiskey, finest purveyors, best malt extracts from northern Scotland, recited Tommy very seriously while Aida was rolling her eyes.

Sticking to the truth has always been the best choice.

\- Birmingham is not asking for such quality, she said scathingly, feeling that he was hiding things from them.

\- Surely Birmingham doesn't, answered Tommy. But other markets are waiting for us. London, Paris, and even NY I dare say, he finished with an encouraging smirk.

If only they could show a bit of enthusiasm. Oh yeah, they certainly would in the end, when Tommy would distribute the money among them. He was the one taking charge, because no one else could-Arthur wasn't smart enough, John was too impulsive and messy, maybe Michael in ten years. Polly would have been the best match, if she had been a man. But she wasn't, and she therefore couldn't be taken seriously in business. Women took over during the war and this certainly changed something forever, something Tommy wasn't able to put words on. But still, he was the one leading the family.

Lizzie certainly had a potential, but she needed someone to encourage her, she wasn't independent enough. Tommy knew he could have played this role, but he didn't want to: as an ex-prostitute and nearly-to-be ex-bride of John, she would have never been accepted in the family as more than a secretary. And deep down, Tommy knew that she would ask for some guarantees to Tommy-love guarantees he didn't feel like giving. She was under his league-he would never love her as much as she would desire. He hoped for more, even though she was of great importance in his life, whether he would admit it or not.

\- We trust you, Tommy, as always, said Polly with a delusional smile, although he knew she would support him until the end of everything.

\- Good. Arthur, I want you to watch the Garrison and the races-it's not much to ask, there is only one this month. John, I want you to look after our dear employees and remind them to work, in case they forget. I decided that I wouldn't lend money to the Clarks, I don't trust them, so you'll naturally tell them. Michael be aware-we should receive a shipment from Exeter quite soon. Polly-

\- It's fine, Tommy, I know my job, she said serenely but inflexibly.

\- Right, he said quickly. Lizzie, no need to tell you as well. Aida, I would be much grateful if you could receive Moss this week-we'll have to pay them, and I'm sure they prefer your pleasant face to my natural glow, he said with a grin to convince her.

Aida shrugged-a compliment was never in vain with her brother-, while Arthur smiled, excited. He admired Tommy so much that he would follow him until the end as well, even if that meant sacrificing everything. So much reverence from his brother sometimes scared Tommy, but he would never show it. John would follow, as always. Michael was truly appreciative, Tommy could tell, even though he would play all impermeable. But the ambiance in the room was still a bit mild, as they were still impacted by what happened lately. Unfortunately, if Polly, Aida and Esme wanted the business to become all clean and legal, Tommy felt the exact opposite-fuck them all, fuck the rules, he had Churchill on his back anyway, so the Minister had to do something for him. The thought sparked him to life again. He left the room, meaning the meeting was over. He came back to his office quickly. There was Lizzie, waiting for him.

\- Tommy, she said while closing the door behind him.

He rolled an eyebrow, not sure of what to expect.

\- You need to sign this. These are our usual contracts that we have to renew, nothing to worry about. There was a change in the shift made by the cigarette's retailers, but they should catch up soon enough. I keep an eye on them and send Gary if something goes wrong. As I said, nothing to worry about, she said finally, lifting a hairlock behind her ear.

Tommy noticed that her hand shivered a bit when she made the gesture and her shifty eyes.

\- Aren't you happy of our recent news of expansion, Lizzie? Asked Tommy with a neutral tone.

She moved her head, glancing at him. He looked at the precious dress, the nice haircut, the red-painted nails with the right ton of colour-not too flashy, not too sober. A respectable woman, that had nothing to do with the girl he was fucking before the war.

\- Of course, Tommy, you should know that, she said with a weary tone.

\- Aren't you the one who played an active role for it to happen? Asked him again.

\- Right, she just replied, looking briefly at him again.

\- Then you should be grateful, smile, feel happy in short, said Tommy. But happiness isn't your strong suit, Lizzie, ay, he added while looking carefully at her.

She suddenly put back the papers she was gathering, her eyes charged with hope.

\- Feel especially cynical today, Tommy? She asked calmly, holding back her horses.

\- Believe-me, I'm not, he whispered while slowly touching her chin, then her cheeks, coming to her forehead. Life can always be better, but what you currently have isn't too bad, is it? He asked while glazing seriously at her.

She closed her eyes, trying to hide her disappointment.

\- Because what you're saying to say is that I will never experience better, isn't it?

Tommy sighed. He didn't want to have this conversation. Not now, not tomorrow.

\- Better is such a subjective concept, he mumbled.

He took her face in his hand and made her coming closer to him, but she shirked from him, no matter how much she effectively desired to stay close to him.

\- No, it's not, she said firmly. You just don't want to-

\- Lizzie, he said with authority. Lizzie, look at me. Do you really think that I can give you more than this? Do you, really? I'm worn-out, Lizzie, you have no idea. I can't give anything to anyone, because I have no energy anymore for all this rigmarole, Lizzie, it's as simple as that, he said, looking at her profoundly while she couldn't stand his look.

\- That's the only word you found, Tommy Shelby. A rigmarole, she sighed with anger.

He definitely let her go, without answering. _This isn't going anywhere_, he thought.

\- Seems like you're not tired with business, she said softly, firstly because she was aware that she had to keep her mouth tight on the subject, and secondly because she already knew the answer he would give. But she didn't want to hear it.

\- You may leave, Lizzie, anytime, said Tommy.

This. Precisely, she didn't want to hear this. But once you're on the fight with Tommy, he'll always knock you down, knowing exactly what to say to shut you up. No, he was definitely not subtle.

\- For how long do you leave? She asked, quickly changing the topic.

\- I'll be away for two weeks, this time, he finally replied, packing his things.

She opened her eyes wide, while he was closing his bag.

\- It's been a long time for you to be gone that much, she simply said, curious-she didn't dare asking. Obviously, it wasn't a usual business trip.

He approached her, looked at her in the eyes.

\- See you in a fortnight, Lizzie, he said, leaving.


End file.
